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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25536634">Gives One Furiously to Think</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmperorNorton150/pseuds/EmperorNorton150'>EmperorNorton150</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Catra's Coup [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(kinda), (not on purpose), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Catra Goes to Therapy (She-Ra), Introspection, Not Canon Compliant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:08:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,146</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25536634</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmperorNorton150/pseuds/EmperorNorton150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shot down over the Whispering Woods in a botched assassination attempt, Generalissimo Catra of the Horde is forced to take shelter with a strange old woman who seems to know an awful lot about her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adora &amp; Catra (She-Ra), Catra &amp; Razz (She-Ra)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Catra's Coup [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805098</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gives One Furiously to Think</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Catra awoke in pain.</p>
<p>                “Owww…” she muttered, clawing her way back to consciousness, blinking around in confusion. She was surrounded by a crumpled metal cage, jagged spikes of green and black steel jutting out of the walls and floor and ceiling. Her uniform—why was she sleeping in her uniform? Her red and gold uniform was charred and torn; the white cloak torn away. And she <em>hurt</em>. Pain pulsed down her side and her legs as she started to scramble her feet. She hissed and grit her teeth, pulling herself upright and ignoring the aching stabs running through her. What had—then the memory hit her, and she swore.</p>
<p>                “Fur and fangs!” she snarled. She’d been on her way back from an inspection of the new mining towns in the Eastern Hills, her flyer taking a shortcut over the Whispering Woods. Then she’d seen it through the window out of the corner of her eye, the missile arching in towards an impact—then nothing. She supposed she was lucky to be alive. She didn’t feel lucky. She crawled out of the twisting remains of the craft, wincing as she put pressure on some of her wounds. Was it the princesses? No, none of them hated her enough to try an assassination. Well, Mermista might. And Frosta—the girl could <em>really</em> hold a grudge. But neither of them would use a missile. This was an internal problem. That was the issue with pulling a coup d’état, everyone else thought they could do it too. She kicked aside part of what had been the rear door, and clambered out on the moss of the woods. It took her only a few moments to determine that the flyer was a total loss, the engine and the communications gear completely dead. With another hiss, she leapt up onto a low branch and licked her wounds, considering. Lonnie? No, not ambitious enough. Entrapa? Ridiculous. She wouldn’t know what to do with a coup if you gave it to her on a silver platter. Scorpia. Catra laughed out loud. Grizzlor? Maybe, but unlikely. Not enough support. She bet it was Force Captain Vultak. He’d been whining for <em>weeks</em> now, and he was stupid enough to think he had a chance of remaining in control of the Horde if he won. Regretfully, she hopped down from her perch and headed off into the woods. Vultak might be an idiot, but she couldn’t count on it. If <em>she</em> were organizing an assassination, she’d send a follow-up team to verify its success. She needed to get away from the crash site before making any plans.</p>
<p>Catra hated the Whispering Woods. They’d been a perennial deathtrap for Horde forces for decades before her birth, and that had never changed. She’d lost too many battles here, had too many schemes and plans go awry and then had to endure rants from Shadow Weaver and Hordak, as if it were <em>her</em> fault. She’d lost Ador—she’d lost a lot of things in these woods. She limped through the forest, ears up, tail bristling, alert to every unfamiliar sound or scent. There was a wrongness here, a sense of unwelcome and unkindness that draped over her like a blanket. The shadows between the trees felt deeper, darker, than the shadows in the Fright Zone. The plants seemed to be conspiring against her in a language she couldn’t understand. It would be so typical to survive everything the Horde could and the Princess Alliance could throw at her, claw her way to rule over half the planet—and then get eaten by a giant bug or something. She kicked a mushroom. What a rotten day this was turning into. That’s when it started raining.</p>
<p>                “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” snarled Catra, breaking into a loping run. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and fat raindrops were slapping onto the leaves, creating a rippling crescendo. Others splattered her fur and ran into her eyes, and she shook her head to clear her vision. She was running as fast as she could now, given her injuries, desperately looking for some type of shelter, a cave or an overhang where she could wait out the downpour. There! Nestled underneath a towering giant of a tree was a little hut, with fight light gleaming in the windows. Catra staggered up to the entranceway and slammed her fist on the doorpost.</p>
<p>                “Open in the name of the Horde!” she shouted. A voice replied immediately.</p>
<p>                “Catra dearie! Please, come in!” She blinked in confusion, but threw open the curtain and lunged inside. <em>Anything</em> to get out of the wet. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything the handle of a broom slammed into her midriff.</p>
<p>                “How do you—ooff!” Catra stared down in confusion. A tiny old lady, even shorter than her, was glowering at her suspiciously from behind giant glasses.</p>
<p>                “Who are you? You’re not Mara!” she barked.</p>
<p>                “What do you mean ‘who are you?’ You know who I am, you just said—ouch!” The broom handle rammed her again.</p>
<p>                “Who are you!?”</p>
<p>                “Catra! I’m Catra! Generalissimo and Supreme Commander of the Horde, Protector of Dryll, Protector of the Scorpion Kingdom, and Defender of Etheria! <em>Now will you please stop poking me?</em>”</p>
<p>                “Oh, Adora’s friend! Why didn’t you say so? Come in, come in, it’s been so long since I saw you”. The women pinched Catra’s cheek fondly and wandered back into the depths of her hut, calling over her shoulder. “I baked you a pie!” Catra spent a long moment standing there on the threshold. Finally, she shrugged and followed. The Whispering Woods were <em>weird</em>.  </p>
<p>Catra warily settled down at the table, staring around at the cluttered yet cozy house. Piles of junk lay everywhere, but the roof was tight and snug, keeping out the pouring rain. The old lady was bustling around, pulling a pie out of an open-hearth oven while humming.</p>
<p>                “How do you know who I am?” called Catra, trying again. The woman beamed at her, marching the pie and an assortment of mismatched utensils over to the table.</p>
<p>                “Because you’re Catra!”</p>
<p>                “That doesn’t actually…...explain anything…...”</p>
<p>                “Eat your pie dearie”.</p>
<p>Catra ate her pie. What? She was hungry! Honestly, this wasn’t even the weirdest thing that had ever happened to her. She needed a dry space to wait out the storm, and she’d need food to give her the strength to make it back to the Fright Zone. She could put up with a weird old crone in return for those. Also, the pie was <em>delicious</em>. For a few minutes, she lost herself in the flavors, scarfing down the slice on her plate before remembering where she was. The woman was still staring at her through those giant glasses. Catra coughed.</p>
<p>                “Um. Thank you—I mean, the Horde thanks you. For your service. If there’s anything I can do to repay you— “. The old lady’s eyes widened, and she rammed her head deep into Catra’s personal space.</p>
<p>                “Suuuugarrr” she hissed. “I want sugar!”</p>
<p>                “I don’t……know what that is…..but, uhh, I’ll try to find some? Alright?” She patted Catra on the head before bustling off again.</p>
<p>                “Thank you dearie! You’re such a nice girl”.</p>
<p>                “I am not a nice girl” grumbled Catra, swishing her tail and scowling. “I am the leader of the Horde!”</p>
<p>                “Do you like it?”</p>
<p>                “……what?”</p>
<p>                “Being leader of your Horde silly!” The woman was now vigorously brushing the ceiling with her broom. Catra felt a headache coming on.</p>
<p>                “I……yes? Yeah, I do. It’s something I’m good at. Something I can do better than anyone else. Something I can do that other people can’t. And it’s like……if I wasn’t here, doing this, then someone else would be. Hordak or Shadow Weaver or Vultak. And they’d be mucking it up. So it’s a good thing that I’m here…..” she trailed off, unsure why she’d said so much. Her host just <em>hmmmed</em>. “Shadow Weaver always said it would be Adora who’d change the world. I was just—a feral animal she tolerated, I guess. A distraction. And Adora thought that too. She was <em>so sure</em> that that stupid sword of hers meant she was special, that she was going to ‘balance the planet’ or whatever. I could be her, her sidekick maybe. Her pet. But look at me now…..” she said the last sentence almost wonderingly. She got up, restless all of a sudden, pacing the cramped confines of the house.</p>
<p>“I doubled the size of the Horde’s territory; did you know that? Two years! Hordak spent fifty years squatting in his fortress, and I accomplished as much as he did in <em>two years</em>. The Crimson Wastes, Dryll, the Eastern Hills, Colonia” she ticked them off on her fingers. “Mine, all mine! I wonder…...if they still are.” She strode to the doorway and stared out at the falling sheets of rain. “Vultak might win you know—he’s an idiot but so’s half the world, it didn’t stop them. Of course, he’d last maybe fifteen, twenty minutes <em>at most</em> against the princesses. But that wouldn’t get the Horde back for me.” Thunder rolled in the distance, and the old lady was humming. “What would I do then….” murmured Catra.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Bow, Glimmer, and Adora were doing something they didn’t get to do as often these days—just, like, hanging out together. They all had so many responsibilities, so much to do if they were going to help keep their world safe and secure. Glimmer had diplomatic missions and political sessions and magic training, Bow was trying to reverse-engineer millennia-old technology and arbitrate half-a-dozen ongoing international disputes, and Adora—Adora was She-Ra, the Anointed One, the Protector of Etheria, the Chosen One, the Destined Warrior, Avatar of Etheria, She of the Lost Stars, etc, etc. But right now, she and Glimmer were just playing cards on the floor of her bedroom, while Bow lay flopped on her bed, fiddling with his tracker pad. Outside the storm raged. Inside, it was warm and bright and dry. It was nice. That’s when Queen Angella burst in.</p>
<p>                “Glimmer! There you are. I need you in the War Room immediately, we have a situation. There’s an attempted coup of some kind happening in the Horde, and the Generalissimo has vanished, her flyer was apparently shot down over the Whispering Woods and no one’s heard from her since— “. The floor seemed to drop out from under Adora’s feet. She could still hear Angella talking, but it was like she was underwater, the words bubbling to her ears through some crushing weight. “…..political repercussions if the regime changes again…….can’t afford another war……reports are fragmentary but there’s fighting in the Fright Zone…..meeting in the War Room in ten minutes….”</p>
<p>                “Hey” Adora started, as Glimmer touched her arm. She looked concerned. “You alright?”</p>
<p>                “I’m fine! Totally fine! But we have to find her. Catra that is. Because of—because of the alliance and politics. And stuff.” Glimmer gave her a searching look, then smiled.</p>
<p>                “Ok. Let’s go.” Bow climbed off the bed and lightly punched Glimmer’s shoulder.</p>
<p>                “Yeah, otherwise who will Glimmer have to overthrow governments with?”</p>
<p>                “I <em>swear</em>, you do something one time—” Adora laughed weakly at the byplay, recognizing their attempt to cheer her up, then bit her lip.</p>
<p>                “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we need to go to the Horde. We’re going to need help”.</p>
<hr/>
<p>                “So then Entrapta decided that she could double the efficiency of the Fright Zone’s reactors by linking them into some First Ones tech she’d dug out of…..honestly, I don’t even know where, I certainly didn’t give it her, and I’m sure she <em>could have</em> if she hadn’t forgotten to tell anyone about her “experiment”. So, the staff on duty see the power levels jump through the roof and try to do a controlled shutdown—but they can’t, because that crazy princess has hijacked the entire control array, and they think the whole Fright Zone’s gonna blow up and honestly, they might’ve been right, and they force-crash the whole power grid and burn out half the capacitors. And it’s the day when the delegation from Plumeria was visiting to discuss agricultural imports, and I had to lie my tail off about why none of the computers or lights were working.” She rolled her eyes. “Can you believe it?”</p>
<p>                “Absolutely! Disgraceful!” supplied the older woman.  </p>
<p>“I guess I’m just tired” continued Catra. She was back in her chair, kicking her legs absently under the table. Between them, the pie had been thoroughly demolished, and she was nursing a large mug of tea. “It never stops, one thing after another. Either it’s pirates or some pipsqueak wannabee warlord or Mermista trying to muscle in onto <em>my</em> islands or my own idiots trying to murder me—it never stops, and sometimes I just want to lie down and wait for it to all go away. But if I do that” she snapped her fingers. “Everything falls apart! Don’t get me wrong, I’ve spent time as deadweight, being indispensable is <em>much</em> better. But it’s not easy”. She frowned. “I’ve never told anyone any of this. Why am I telling you all this again?” The woman smiled broadly.</p>
<p>                “Because I am a crazy old lady! And you will never see me again!” Catra laughed, and sipped her tea. It was dark out now, but the rain was still pouring down. She wondered when the last time she’d been away from any communication with the Horde, with her subordinates or superiors, for this long was. Ever? Maybe since her first mission to the Crimson Wastes, over three years ago now. It was strangely relaxing. Either Scorpia and Lonnie had thrown back the coup or they hadn’t. When she got back to the Fright Zone she’d find out and take steps accordingly. But it was out of her hands now, and she had nothing to do except sit here and drink tea and watch the rain fall. And talk to this weirdo.</p>
<p>                “It must be pretty peaceful, huh? Living out here all alone”.</p>
<p>                “Bah! Nonsense! Always people showing up, you, and Adora, and Mara, and that talking horse!”</p>
<p>                “Ok, <em>seriously</em>, how do you know who we are?” The crone blinked, then looked around in surprise.</p>
<p>                “Where’s Adora? Why isn’t she here?”</p>
<p>                “Why…..why would she be here?”</p>
<p>                “Catra dearie, you’re always here together!”</p>
<p>                “I have never been here before in my life!” Catra snapped. “And Adora……Adora is…...I don’t know.” The old lady just kept staring at her. Catra kept talking. “She left me. She left me behind”. She said that firmly, confidentially. That was one of the foundation stones of her life, the rock she’d built her temple upon. “She thought I couldn’t survive on my own, that I’d have to come crawling after her.” Another certainty, firm and hard and true. “And then…...I beat her. I won.” And that’s where Catra always found her thoughts unraveling. For so long, she’d built herself around a single, driving passion: <em>defeat Adora</em>. First, she had just wanted to hurt her, to make her suffer, to draw blood. Then, as her other plans had drawn together, as she’d taken down Shadow Weaver and set her sights on Hordak she’d realized what true revenge would be: proving to her that she wasn’t as special as she thought she was, taking away her destiny, <em>finally</em> showing her that she, Catra, was just as good—no! <em>better! </em>than her. And she’d done it. She’d taken over the Horde, she’d brought peace to Etheria. And now……”I don’t know” she said again, quieter this time. “I never thought about what would happen once I won and…...she’s still here? And I’m still here?” She had never really thought past victory, and how sweet it would be, and it <em>had</em> been, and……”What do I do now?” It was like stepping off a cliff into a cloud and falling slowly, a sense like the world had shifted under her feet, and there was nothing solid she could grab onto. Adora had always been a constant, first the only source of comfort in her world, then a knife stabbing through her heart. And now she was……what? She didn’t know, and it made her uneasy, like an itch in her bones. “I wish it were the old days again” she muttered finally, staring down into her mug. “I knew how to handle the war better”.</p>
<p>                “No you don’t dearie” the woman chirped cheerily. Catra glowered.</p>
<p>                “How do <em>you</em> know?” The crone poked the ruler of the Horde’s shoulder with a boney finger.  </p>
<p>                “Because of you! You have the power. You want there to be war, there will be war. You wanted peace. Peace with the princesses. Peace with Adora. If you didn’t, there wouldn’t.”</p>
<p>                “Alright, fine” Catra growled. “I don’t want to go back to war. I just want things to make sense again. And I didn’t realize how hard it would be to just, like, talk to her again.” At least when they were trying to kill each other they’d known where they stood. This business of……talking, of working together, of being……acquittances? was profoundly alienating. Uncomfortable. She slouched back in her chair, staring at the wooden crossbeams of the ceiling. She tried running through one of her litanies, reciting facts and figures and numbers; cold, hard data that couldn’t run away from her or betray her, data that signified <em>her</em> power. It usually calmed her, grounded her, pulled her mind out of whatever spiral it was in. It had become her routine ever since she’d first become Force Captain, lying awake at night trembling, or waking up from a nightmare, drenched in sweat. <em>Two hundred tons of phosphoric acid and ninety tons of titanium alloys needed in Outpost Fifteen….the 78<sup>th</sup> Armored Brigade reports full readiness, but the 63<sup>rd</sup> is short fifteen tanks, forty-two bots, and nine skiffs…..the new dreadnaught’s turrets were ready to be installed and the ship should be ready for launch in six months……five hundred new model laser-guns delivered from the foundries for the new trainees……</em>it wasn’t working. She couldn’t fit her mind into the proper mental slot. Probably something about these never-to-be-sufficiently-cursed woods, or the busybody old hag still beaming at her from across the table. She frowned suddenly. “Are you doing this on purpose?”</p>
<p>“Doing what?” </p>
<p>“Making me……think about stuff”.</p>
<p>“I am just sitting here! More tea?” Catra’s ears flipped, and her tail lashed back and forth. She grunted noncommittally, and the woman refilled her mug. Catra took another sip, and sighed.</p>
<p>                “Maybe I just need to vent” she said finally. This was ridiculous. She was Generalissimo of the Horde, ruler of half of Etheria. Probably the single most powerful person on the face of the planet. She did not need to be—to be—<em>obsessing</em> over this person who meant nothing to her anymore. Well, ok, not nothing. She was useful. A valuable ally. But Catra had <em>beaten</em> her. That meant she didn’t have to think about her anymore. Right? “I just……I don’t know what to do. Or how to act. Or how to feel. I’m not used to that.” Her host patted her arm gently.</p>
<p>                “Talk to Adora about it, dearie. You’ll feel better.”</p>
<p>                “For the last time! That’s the problem!”</p>
<p>                “Oh, that’s a shame Mara. But you’ll figure it out. You always do”. Catra hissed, and clambered to her feet, pacing again, trying to let all the energy bleed out through her feet. She needed to calm down. She wasn’t a cadet anymore, someone who could afford to let feelings drive her actions. She wasn’t even a Force Captain. <em>She was the Horde</em>. She had responsibilities, tens of thousands of people who depended on her. She couldn’t let feelings—good, bad, or confusing—trap her or drag her down. She had to be calm. She had to be strong. She had to be—</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh </em>
</p>
<p>Was this what Adora had felt like? When she found the sword? Catra’s claws beat a tattoo on the wooden tabletop, and her tail lashed back and forth. That was different. The Horde was….the Horde was important. Not like some stupid destiny that didn’t mean anything anyways. And—and—</p>
<p>                “It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make a difference” she finally said.</p>
<p>                “What was that?”</p>
<p>                “I…...” There was a sound outside, a howling roar that shook the trees and rattled the pots and pans on the shelves. Lights flared in the sky, blinding them through the window. The old lady dashed for the door.</p>
<p>                “Oh dear me, are the stars back already?” Catra grabbed her by the arm and shoved her towards the back of the hut, taking a long step forward.</p>
<p>                “Get behind me woman!” she snapped, extending her claws. Fifty/fifty chance, she thought. Either it was her men coming to find her or Vultak’s traitors coming to finish her off. She could hear noses outside, the rattle of armor and the whine of jet engines and the squishing of footsteps in the wet earth. Then the door opened, and a giant walked though, eight-feet tall and glowing. She reacted on instinct, throwing herself forward. A sword came up, swinging, and she dodged, bouncing to the side and rolling, preparing to leap again.</p>
<p>                “Catra, stop that! It’s me!” She blinked, and the apparition flared and shrunk back into a normal-sized girl, wearing a familiar red jacket. Catra rose to her feet gingerly, still on edge.</p>
<p>                “Adora? What are you doing—gahh!” she squawked as the other girl grabbed her and yanked her into a hug. “Get off me!” Adora stepped back, frowning, as Catra shook herself.  </p>
<p>                “Mara dearie, it’s good to see you!” the hut’s owner trotted forward and Adora gave her a hug.</p>
<p>                “It’s good to see you too Madame Razz”</p>
<p>                “Wait, you <em>know</em> this old coot?”</p>
<p>                “Catra!”</p>
<p>                “Whaaaat”. By now a dozen Horde officers and troopers had followed into the house and were all babbling at once, an overlapping chorus of “Your Excellency!” and “Generalissimo, you’re alive!” and reports about twenty different things at once.  </p>
<p>                “Alright” Catra said. “Alright, shut up! All of you, shut up!” They did. She made little shooing motions with her hands. “Get out. Scram. Go form a defensive perimeter or interrogate a bird or something. I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave”. With a great deal of muttering the cavalcade shuffled out, and Catra turned back to Adora with a scowl.  </p>
<p>                “What are you <em>doing</em> here?” Adora glared back.</p>
<p>                “I was worried about you! Scorpia said your flyer had gone down near here and lent us some of your men. Bow and Glimmer are searching the other side of the river, and Swift Wind is scouting near the Crystal Castle.” Catra smirked, adjusting her headband.</p>
<p>                “Is that it? Honestly, you didn’t need to bother. Scorpia and Entrapta would have maintained the Horde’s alliance with your kingdoms without any problems”.</p>
<p>                “I wasn’t worried about the alliance! I was—I was worried about you.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh </em>
</p>
<p>                “Well, I’m fine” she finally said. “Nothing to be concerned about. Any news from the Horde?” Adora nodded.</p>
<p>                 “Scorpia threw back the attack that, uhh—”</p>
<p>                  “Vultak? Force Captain Vultak?”</p>
<p>                  “Yeah! Him. Scorpia drove back his attack on the Fright Zone, and she says that every other Force Captain remained loyal. He’s fallen back to Colonia and entrenched there with his remaining followers, and Scorpia’s cut him off”. Catra sighed. Her little break from the real world had been…..interesting…..but it was time to get back to work.</p>
<p>                 “What a mess. I better go. I’d like to get this nonsense wrapped up by morning”. She turned to her eccentric host and shook her hand.</p>
<p>                 “The Horde thanks you for your service Madam. I will attempt to find this ‘sugar’ you speak of and deliver it to you”. The woman—Razz, pinched Catra’s cheek and smiled.</p>
<p>                 “You should come by more often dearie.”  </p>
<p>                 “I’ll, uhh, try.” In an aside to Adora “Is she <em>always</em> like this?” Adora shrugged.</p>
<p>                “Pretty much, yeah.”</p>
<p>                “Huh.” Catra strode past her with a curt nod. Outside the rain was still falling steadily, outlining the shadowy shape of the Horde flyer parked awkwardly in the clearing outside the hut. She paused on the threshold and looked back. “Hey. Adora? Thanks. For real.” Adora gave her a small smile.</p>
<p>                 “Anytime”.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The flyer screamed across the sky towards Colonia, jet pods pulsing in the night, the trees of the Whispering Woods whipping by far below. Catra’s aides and officers surrounded her, chattering about numbers of troops and dispositions of forces and casualty reports and loyal and disloyal commanders and damage statistics. Catra barely heard them. She sat curled up in her seat, her arms and tail wrapped around her, staring out the window.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>- I hope this makes some kind of sense? Now that this has turned into a real series I wanted to do some exploration of Catra and Adora's relationship in this universe, but this turned out to be way harder to write than I anticipated, and I think I ended up pushing up against the limits of my comfort zone as a writer. Which was fun, but I do hope the result is readable lol.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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